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Across the James River, less than half a mile from the Belmead mansion, lies St. Francis de Sales.
Sad, neglected and slowly succumbing to the passage of time.
Built by enslaved people in the 1800s, the Belmead plantation was eventually converted to both a school for boys, St. Emma Military Academy, housed in the Belmead mansion and St. Francis de Sales School for Girls which offered educations for Native and African American students. These schools were established by Mother Katherine Drexel, a former heiress and socialite who devoted her life to the church and later went on to become one of only two American Roman Catholic saints. The girl’s school was named for Drexel’s father, Francis, and often referred to as Castle Rock…a castle to the girls that resided there and a foundation (rock) for their futures.
Both schools were closed in 1970 and since this time, the buildings have fallen into disrepair.
Visiting with a tour organized by local photographer John Plaschal, I had already done a full exploration of the Belmead mansion and its surrounding property. I headed to St. Francis de Sales, having to take the long way around with the James River bridge outage. Parking in the lot adjacent to the former school, I made my way through the opening in the gate, heading to the front of the building. The back was a bit lackluster, but it was the Gothic facade was what I wanted most to see.
Part of the front of the building had collapsed in the past few years and this made for some interesting photography, but the part I was most excited about was the church. With its arched doorway, capped with a splendid stained glass window and statue of its namesake, St. Francis de Sales, it was breathtaking. Creeping vines covered the façade, some still in bloom, and an occasional window was shattered, allowing the outside to venture in.
Waiting my turn, I finally entered the doorway. The narthex was enclosed by a low barrier and I had to be content to view the entire church from this viewpoint. It was obvious that mass had not been celebrated here in some time. There were two pews in front of the altar which appeared to be waiting for the worshipers of the past. The vaulted ceiling rose above and it looked as if great portions of it had fallen, leaving only the beams visible. What I loved most, however, were the colorful stained glass windows, visible on the left side of the church.
An agreement had been made with the current owner to allow visitors to venture no further than this point, due to the current state of the property. It was sad, as I would have liked to inspect each part of the church more intimately and especially to look back towards the choir to see the light filtering through the stained glass window above the doorway.
Walking completely around the building, I paid attention to the numerous architectural details while making my way toward the former art studio. The doorway was open and I spied blank chalkboards, empty shelves and tables and chairs covered in the crumbling debris from the aged ceiling.
The back of the building was in especially atrocious shape with the right side collapsing from the main structure. I was able to make my way closer, however, to see the balconied areas and vine-covered entrance. The rusty fire escapes still clung to the back of the building and I could only imagine the occasional student’s attempts to venture out using these dilapidated steps when curfew was upon them.
Following the path behind the school, I inspected the tall chimney and an abandoned building. An old gas pump stood neglected in the weeds nearby and I wondered if equipment used at the school was stored there at one time.
Continuing on the path through the woods, I admired the changing leaves and tall trees that lined the path. Eventually, I encountered a low wall, a landmark that I had been instructed to look for. Just beyond, I found the small, humpback bridge that crossed the small creek. I photographed every angle, even stepping down into the creek bed to see it from below, while the water coursed past my feet.
My journey back to the main building seemed much quicker and I sought out some of the other buildings on the property. Finally, eyeing the darkening sky, I jumped into my car and made my way to the main road. There was, however, a stop I had to make along the way.
The nun’s cemetery.
John, aware of my love of cemeteries, insisted that I visit on my way out and described the landmarks that I needed to navigate the area successfully. Pulling my car over to the shoulder, I headed into the darkening forest.
Now, I have watched enough scary movies to ask myself, “Why are you going into the forest…at dusk…by yourself…looking for a cemetery?”
Still, I ventured on, finding what then made sense as I saw it…a tree tunnel. Well, it was more like evergreen bushes trained to grow into a shape that resembled a tunnel, but instead of walking around it, I heeded my instructions and overcame my fear of the creepy crawlies that probably resided there. Moving quickly through it, I continually eyed the light at the end. “Come to the light,” it called, evoking memories of supernatural movies where the dead passed on, heading towards a bright aurora. That thought was applicable, as when I stepped out, it was there that I found the nun’s cemetery.
About eleven small headstones, marking the final resting place of the nuns that resided there, were scattered around the overgrown graveyard. In the moment, I was more concerned with snakes, than ghosts, so I headed back to the path.
Continuing on into the ever-growing gloom, I passed through a gate and found the children’s cemetery. Now, if dead nuns don’t make you scared, dead children might…especially in the dark.
I made quick work of photographing the small burial ground and finally, returned as quickly as I had come…maybe quicker!
A successful day of photography, both the Belmead and St. Francis de Sales, although, shadows of their former selves, make for stunning architectural subjects. It is good to know, however, that both buildings have been recently purchased by a new owner and a foundation has been established in an effort to restore and reuse the buildings.
Possibly one day, after renovations, everyone may have the opportunity to see these stunning pieces, reminders of time gone by.
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St. Francis de Sales
- Address: 3500 St. Emma Drive, Powhatan, Virginia 23139
- Admission: Admitted by invitation only
- Hours: No regular hours
John Plaschal Photography
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